


Gwirioneddau Cudd

by gracethebookworm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Characters Reading Fanfic, Child Abuse, Suspense, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-10 00:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracethebookworm/pseuds/gracethebookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Betrayed, shunned and manipulated, Harry Potter's finally had enough. But, while still contemplating how to tell the Wizarding World just where to put its expectations and worrying for the health of the one person he still cares for, he's ordered to the Ministry of Magic to answer for the destruction of the DOM and treason charges</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This deviates from canon in several places which is intentional
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

The person in the mirror looked foreign, unrecognizable. Harry sighed. The physical differences that greeted him were just another reminder of the events that had transpired only a few short months ago. He had fallen for a trap set by Lord Voldemort and had rushed off to the Ministry of Magic, certain that Voldemort was torturing his Godfather, Sirius Black. It struck Harry as extremely ironic that in trying to save Sirius, he had set into motion a chain of events that would end in Sirius' death.

Sirius had, of course, accompanied the Order of the Phoenix when they'd come to Harry's aid and had been part of the battle against Voldemort's Death Eaters. He had been hit by a curse from Bellatrix Lestrange, which had put him into a coma. Harry had been told that he would never wake up and that it would be kinder to put him out of his misery. He'd disagreed at first but when Dumbledore told him that Sirius would be in constant pain and there was nothing that could be done to alleviate it, he'd had to accept that forcing the man to stay that way would be incredibly unfair, especially seeing as a small part of Harry simply didn't want to be responsible for the man's death.

The guilt had tormented him constantly since then. He should've been able to tell that the vision was a fake. He should've listened to Hermione and not tried to be a hero again. He should've tried harder at Occlumency.

He had so many regrets and in the solitude of summer, he couldn't stop himself from dwelling on every mistake he'd made and beating himself up about it.

Logically, he knew that there were outside influences that had contributed to the events but he could also not deny that much of the blame lay with him. He somehow always seemed to become involved with something dangerous and the people closest to him got dragged into the mess along with him.

And it seemed that his friends had realized this as well. Not a fortnight into the summer holidays, Pigwidgeon had arrived with two letters, one from Ron and Hermione respectively.

Harry had opened the first and received a nasty shock. He had been worried even before he'd opened it due to the shortness of the parchment. Hermione's letters were usually very long, not at all like the short piece of parchment Pigwidgeon had delivered to him.

 

Harry

I'm sorry about this but I've done a lot of thinking since what happened at the Department of Mysteries and I've come to the following conclusion –

I can't be friends with you anymore Harry.

I'm sorry but I need to think about my safety and the safety of my parents before anything else and the fact is, being around you is dangerous. You're always involved in life-threatening things and as a friend of yours I was forced to become a part of those things which was always detrimental to my health.

Now there's the prophecy and you're going to be needed to defeat You-Know-Who. I'm sorry but being close to you will make me a target and it will put my family in danger as well.

I can't do that to them or to myself.

I ask you to respect my decision and not try to seek me out or interact with me overly much at school.

Hermione Granger

 

He'd opened Ron's letter immediately afterward, preferring to get it over with quickly. Ron's letter had actually been much longer than Hermione's, also uncharacteristic.

 

Potter

Look, this needs to end. It's first of all been nothing like I expected. I thought that being the best mate of the Boy-Who-Lived would be a lot more worthwhile. 

Turns out the only thing I got from it was to play second fiddle to you. I'm well-known but people prefer you over me. 

I could've dealt with that. You're an okay person and I was fine just being your mate.

But then it got dangerous and it kept on that way.

In my first year, I got a concussion. 

In my second, my wand was destroyed. 

In third year, I lost my pet, got a broken leg and nearly got eaten by a werewolf.

Fourth year wasn't so bad if you don't count the ridiculous amount of attention you were getting.

Still, I could've dealt with that. I mean, none of the damage was ever lasting and I got well known around Hogwarts.

But after what happened at the Ministry of Magic, it's not worth it any more. I was in the Hospital Wing for days, I've still got scars and this time you even got my sister hurt!

And this time, it was all your fault. You got fooled and you yanked us all to the Ministry with you.

I can't do this anymore. The danger around you keeps getting worse and I can't keep risking my life.

There's no pay off anymore either. Instead of fame, I get ridicule for sticking with you and believing what you say.

Enough's enough.

So, don't talk to me at Hogwarts. Don't try to get me to change my mind and most of all, stay away from Ginny and Hermione.

Ron Weasley

 

Harry sighed. He couldn't find it in himself to care very much about Ron and Hermione's decisions anymore. He'd been upset when he'd first read them but right now his thoughts were with Sirius and he couldn't spare the emotion to care about anything else. It would probably begin to hurt more when he got back to Hogwarts but as of now, he felt numb.

A childish part of him was still hoping that his friends would reconsider but he knew that even if they did, he wouldn't be able to forget the fact that they'd wanted to abandon him, that they'd both gone far enough to write and send letters to him.

It would've been a different thing if they'd been talking about it and one of them had suddenly found it to be too much, but a letter was different. It was a premeditated action and that was much harder to brush off as a momentary lapse of judgement.

And the letters themselves had been eye-openers. Not so much Hermione's but Ron's was definitely a wake-up call. The red-haired teen had come right out and told him that he'd only become friends with Harry because he wanted fame and money. Hermione hadn't said anything about her motives for befriending him but what she had said, namely the things about him defeating Voldemort, were just as clear in other ways.

It seemed that he would no longer be able to deny that the motives of those he'd considered his 'best friends' had been far from pure.

He sighed.

No Ron and Hermione.

Nor anyone else at Hogwarts if the Daily Prophet could be counted on.

And in a few days, no Sirius,

By September 1st there would truly be nothing tying him to the Wizarding World or to the image of the Golden Boy he'd cultivated upon arrival there.

Maybe it was time to think about bringing the true Harry Potter into the spotlight.

But as quickly as that thought struck Harry, he pushed it away. It would be far easier to simply disappear and allow Voldemort to get on with it.

Decisions, decisions…

 

Harry looked up and saw an owl flying towards him. He instantly recognized it as one of the Ministry's – the regal bearing and slightly pompous air, as well as the official-looking seal on the letter it bore were dead giveaways. He opened the window and allowed the creature to come in, quickly relieving it of its burden. Opening the letter, he braced himself for more bad news, absent-mindedly noticing that the owl had yet to leave.

 

Mr. Potter

You have been summoned to an official Ministry hearing on the 28th of August at the Ministry of Magic.

This hearing concerns the incident that occurred two months previous at the Department of Mysteries as well as several other incidents that have been brought to our attention.

The charges laid against you currently are as follows.

Slander

Trespassing

Destruction of property

Conspiracies against the Ministry of Magic

Defamation of character

You are required to be present in Courtroom 10 of the Ministry of Magic on the above date with only your wand. Due to your being a minor in a Muggle residence, it will not be possible for the Department of Magical Transportation to issue you with a Portkey and therefore you will be required to use Muggle transportation methods.

Failure to appear on time at the Ministry will be taken as your admission of guilt and Aurors will be dispatched to escort you to Azkaban so that you may fulfil your sentence.

Hoping you are well,

Valencia Jones

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

 

Harry read through the letter once and then again. Half the charges didn't make sense. Slander? Defamation of character? Trespassing, destruction of property and conspiracies against the Ministry, he could at least understand, what with the article in the Quibbler and the Department of Mysteries incident but it sounded as though Fudge and his lackeys had pulled the rest out of their collective – The article.

Of course.

Which meant that the majority of the charges came from Lucius Malfoy and since Fudge was in Malfoy's pocket, that would make the court case that much harder for Harry to win. And now that Ron and Hermione had severed all ties with him, he had precious few witnesses and even fewer allies in the magical world.

The Order members couldn't reveal their identities – they were vigilantes and they would be charged if it were to come out that they broken into the Ministry and caused all that damage trying to help Harry. So the only two witnesses he had were Neville and Luna who couldn't be expected to subject themselves to disdain from the majority of the Wizarding World, not to mention danger from Voldemort because they were associating themselves with Harry. There was no way that his word would be taken against Lucius Malfoy's - the man had enough money and power to ensure that the majority of the Wizengamot would do as he told them and he probably wouldn't even have to work that hard on most of them because of the reputation the Daily Prophet had begun to develop for him a year ago.

Harry was well and truly screwed and there was precious little he could do about it. His only hope was that Dumbledore would pull some trick out of his hat – allow Harry to submit Pensieved memories or take Veritaserum so that the truth of his claims couldn't be disputed. But those still weren't full-proof plans – an insane person's memories would portray events the way they believed said events had played out and Veritaserum had changeable side-effects on those who hadn't reached magical majority.

There was a flawless way to get the truth but it was obscure and Harry couldn't remember exactly what it was. It was some ritual, some…

Harry started. The ministry owl, getting impatient because of his lack of a response, had nipped his left hand to get his attention. The dark-haired teen looked at it enquiringly, thankful that Hedwig hadn't been there to witness the bite. He didn't want to add murder of defenceless owls to his list of charges and Hedwig was extremely protective of him.

"What is it?" he asked. "Are you waiting for a response?"

The owl jerked his head towards the envelope Harry had dropped onto his bed.

"There's more? I'm almost afraid to look at it. This has been a bad enough day already."

The owl jerked his head again and moved his beak closer to Harry's wrist.

He chuckled. "Alright, I get it. I'll open it. Just keep your beak to yourself."

The other piece of parchment was barely more than a scrap. It contained only two lines.

 

Confirm your receipt of this letter by signing it and returning it with the delivery owl. Do NOT send it back with a different owl.

Harry moved to the loose floorboard under his bed, pried it up and retrieved quill and ink. He signed the parchment and then attached it to the owl's leg.

"Here you go. Sorry for making you wait." He stroked it before leading it to the window so it could leave.

His own owl came into view just as the Ministry owl took off. She flew in through the window and he automatically raised his arm for her to perch on.

"Well, Hedwig. Looks like life's about to get complicated again."

She crooned at him, cocking her head enquiringly.

"I have to attend a court case in a few days time. Fudge is trying to discredit me again and Lucius Malfoy's working on Voldemort's orders to try and make my life as difficult as possible. Not to mention the fact that I still need to make a decision about Hogwarts this year. I've realized that I can't leave the magical world before I reach magical maturity but once I turn seventeen, I'm in full control of my actions and I'm free to tell the Wizarding World to go fly a kite. But what about in the interim?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm looking for a back up beta at the moment as my regular beta's got some RL stuff going on. If you're interested, please let me know in either a PM or a review. Thanks!
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.
> 
> Warnings: See first chapter and tags.

BBBRRRINNGG!  
Harry sat up in bed. There was nothing in the room to remind him but he knew instantly that it was the day of his court case. He’d not been able to think of much else since he’d received the letter but try as he might, he couldn’t think of a solution to his problem.  
No legal solution, anyway.  
He couldn’t prove that he was telling the truth and because of the way the facts had been twisted by reporters and politicians, the chances that he would be believed were microscopic.   
He sighed. He could understand that people were scared but the Ministry’s and the Wizarding World’s way of dealing with the problem – sticking their heads in the sand and hoping it would go away if they didn’t look at it was not only pointless but also dangerous. Their refusal to believe in the threat meant that the vast majority of people were taking no security precautions, leaving them wide open to attack from Voldemort powerless to defend themselves when the attacks did occur.  
Cornelius Fudge would be responsible for a massacre if he didn’t face the facts and accept the truth – a war was on the horizon and the people needed to know, needed to prepare themselves for the horrors that they would soon have to face.  
But there was nothing that he could do to convince the politician or the Wizengamot to believe him.  
He’d entertained a brief hope that Dumbledore would manage to find something that would make the Wizengamot believe him but as the days went past and he received no correspondence from the Headmaster, that hope began to dwindle.  
If only he could remember more about that ritual…  
He’d tried as hard as possible but it was useless – he just couldn’t remember a name.  
If he’d had access to Hogwarts’ library or to his own books then maybe he would’ve been able to find something but seeing as the Dursleys had figured out his ability to pick locks last year, there was now a combination lock replacing the padlock Vernon had previously employed to keep Harry away from his ‘freak’s supplies’.  
The only reason he’d been able to actually spend some time trying to think of a way to win the case or have it thrown out was because Vernon had decided to pay Marge a visit and, showing a rare display of intelligence, had excluded Harry from the visit, remembering the way the previous one had gone.  
Harry had breathed a sigh of relief when he’d heard that he wasn’t to be going. His temper had already been stretched due to his own self-loathing as well as the lingering anger towards Ron and Hermione that he hadn’t quite been able to suppress and he was perfectly certain that he wouldn’t have been able to keep himself under control if the cow had begun insulting his parents again.  
The charges against him were extensive enough already without adding underage magic to the mix.

The teen stood, collecting toiletries and clothes before moving to the bathroom. It never hurt to make a good impression and he needed every bit of help he could get.  
He had planned as best as he could to ensure that he would get to the Ministry on time and without racking up any more charges.  
He’d hidden the court case from his ‘family’, nicking the money for a ticket to Central London from Petunia’s purse. Dudley helped himself often enough that she had automatically assumed it was him and Harry hadn’t caught any hell for it. His clothing had also been carefully thought out. He was using Muggle transport therefore it was impossible for him to wear robes. But, if he showed up wearing Dudley’s hand-me-downs, he’d be giving the press even more fodder to write about. He could just imagine Rita Skeeter’s Quick Quotes Quill. It would probably spit out some rubbish along the lines of;

_The boy-who-lived seems intent on continuing his erratic and frankly worrying behaviour, today choosing to attire himself in dirty, unbecoming rags in what is no doubt another bid to get himself noticed. It is truly sad that Mr Potter deems it necessary to go to such lengths for attention._

Harry shook his head. Thinking about Skeeter would only irritate him and he needed to be as calm as possible if he was going to have to deal with the Minister and his toadies.  
Still, it was satisfying to think that he’d managed to avoid giving the reporter another thing to focus her acidic tongue on.   
Sirius had noticed his lack of flattering attire and though his Godfather hadn’t commented on it, the Animagus had privately gifted him with a few decent sets of clothing. It was bittersweet to think of, as was everything that had to do with Sirius lately, but he still appreciated his Godfather’s care. Sirius had been the first parental figure he’d known and he cursed Bellatrix Lestrange for the state she’d left his Godfather in. Sirius was on his deathbed and Harry would never get to see him again. They had managed to form a close relationship despite the damage that Sirius’s incarceration had done but soon the man would be gone and Harry would have no one.  
He didn’t even know if he’d be able to say goodbye. He would have to try and get to Dumbledore to ask him but if the Headmaster acted in the same manner that he had the last time Harry had been in a courtroom, he’d be lucky to get the chance to discuss his defence with the wizard.

Nothing to do about it now except get to the Ministry as quickly as possible so that he had the best chance possible of cornering the Headmaster.

“Well, what do you think Hedwig?” The black-haired teen turned to the owl. “Do I look presentable?”  
He had chosen to go with presentable but comfortable and was wearing black jeans and a green turtleneck.  
The snowy owl hooted approvingly and Harry laughed.  
“Nice to know. Now, I would normally tell you to go to Ron’s but seeing as that’s now impossible, do you think you could find a nice place around London?”  
Hedwig jerked her head.  
“Good. Find me at the end of the day, ok?” He opened the window.  
The owl took flight, soon becoming all but invisible to his eyes.  
Harry turned, stooping to pull up the loose floorboard he used as a hiding place. The only things there were extra rolls of parchment and quills that he’d hidden there the previous year. All of his things were locked with his trunk in the cupboard under the stairs. However, Harry had managed to keep his wand by hiding it in his pocket and showing the Dursleys one of Fred and George’s fake wands.   
He retrieved it from where it had lain since he’d gotten back, smiling at the warmth as it greeted him.  
He ran through a mental checklist.  
Wand. Clothes. Hedwig. And finally, money.  
He had everything he needed.  
It wouldn’t be possible for him to lock the front door but then, Privet Drive was a safe neighbourhood and besides, there was nothing he could do about it now.  
He would have to walk for a while and then take both a bus and train, meaning that he’d have a considerably long wait before he actually got to the Ministry but that was hardly a huge inconvenience. He’d probably use the time to try and will himself into remembering something about the ritual he’d read about. It was a long shot, a very long shot, but it was all he had and, if nothing else, it would help to pass the time.

**Gwirioneddau Cudd**

Harry walked towards the telephone box that hid the Ministry’s entrance. The alleyway had not become any more glamorous in the time since his previous visit.   
He sighed in remembrance.   
He had been so reckless. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he’d be signing the death warrants of both himself and the five who had followed him into danger. He hadn’t thought of their inexperience, their lack of magical power in comparison to Death Eaters who showed no mercy to children.   
No, his mind had been fully occupied with visions of Sirius. He’d spent the entire time between his disastrous exam and their arrival at the Hall of Prophecies with his imagination showing him increasingly horrible tortures that he had been sure Voldemort was inflicting on his poor Godfather.  
A hearing, a rescue mission and now a trial.   
It seemed as though he was destined to associate the Ministry of Magic with bad memories.  
The teen lifted the receiver and dialled the following code;  
62442  
Magic. Not the most original of passwords but he supposed it worked.  
The automated female voice asked him to state his name and business.  
“Harry Potter. Attending Hearing in Courtroom 10.”  
The requisite badge was issued and the female voice reminded him to present his wand for registration at the Atrium’s security desk.  
The telephone box began to move, stopping once it reached the Atrium.  
Harry opened the telephone box and stepped out into the golden hall.  
The Atrium was crowded enough that Harry managed to get to the security desk unnoticed.  
The same badly-shaven wizard who’d been there the previous year, Eric Something, scanned him for weapons and registered his wand.   
“Eleven inches, holly with phoenix core, in use for five years?” The wizard read.  
“That’s correct.” Harry said, making sure to keep his head low. He was trying to avoid being recognized and with the way the man had reacted the first time they’d met, he’d make a fuss if he realized who he was speaking to.  
Thankfully, the blue robed man let him pass without any real attempt to see is face. It seemed he’d caught the wizard in the middle of his newspaper.  
The teen moved quickly to the lifts and darted into an unoccupied one, pressing the door close button as soon as he got in, ignoring the protests from all the people behind him.

Harry walked out of the lift, studiously avoiding the door at the end of the corridor. Now was not the time for him to be thinking of June. He needed to keep a clear head for the ordeal that lay ahead of him.   
He turned right, walked down the flight of stairs and stopped.  
There were four Aurors waiting at the entrance for Courtroom Ten and it took no stretch of the imagination to ascertain their purpose.  
He knew three of them.  
Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody and Nymphadora Tonks were standing in front of him along with a wizard he didn’t know. There was no emotion in any of their faces and Harry could see that he wouldn’t be escaping any of them. So unless the unknown wizard was an Order member he didn’t know, Harry wouldn’t be getting to talk to Dumbledore.  
Moody seemed to be the one in charge – something that made sense. Fudge probably trusted the grizzled man to care for nothing more than Harry’s suspected Dark Wizard status.  
Moody gestured, an indicator for Shacklebolt and the unknown wizard to restrain him.  
“Potter, you’re being taken to one of the Ministry’s holding cells. You’ll be required to hand over your wand and will be accompanied by two Aurors at all times. You pitched up early boy. If you’d come in at the appointed time, you’d have been able to avoid this.” Moody looked irritated by the end.  
Harry said nothing. Defending himself was pointless – he would be put in a cell regardless.  
Tonks took over then. “Do you know what the charges against you are?”  
Harry nodded. “Yes, I do.”  
Moody nodded. “Nothing left to talk about. You’ll be escorted back here in an hour.”  
Kingsley urged him forward.  
They went down a flight of stairs and turned left into a long, gloomy corridor. Harry looked around, seeing unoccupied cells to either side. It seemed that he would be alone in the cells – besides the Aurors.  
The stranger stopped at the end of the corridor and pulled out his wand, unlocking the door.   
It was small, black and filthy.  
It looked like a hole had simply been dug out of the wall.   
Harry stopped right after he’d entered. He refused to go into that darkness.  
Both the Aurors glared at him. “What’s wrong?” Shacklebolt asked. “Why have you stopped?”  
Harry gave the man an incredulous look. “I’m not going in there, you’re nuts. You have no idea what’s been left to die in this place – think of the germs. And look at the architecture! I’m liable to need tunnelling equipment if I go much farther.”  
“Mr. Potter –“The unknown Auror stepped forward, wand lit, and Harry finally got a good look at him.   
The man was tall and intimidating. His eyes were light, made striking by the contrast of his dark hair. His skin was pale and he looked to be in his thirties.  
The teen immediately felt that this wizard was powerful and unused to having his orders disobeyed.  
Well, he was going to have to get used to it. Starting now.  
“Look, I’m not asking for much. I’m in the cell. Can’t you be satisfied with that?”  
Kingsley all but ignored the conversation, leaving the decision in the hands of the other Auror.  
Harry frowned. Everything he’d been told had implied that Shacklebolt had authority in the Auror department and the man was known for his mercy. Why, then, did he seem content to allow this unknown man to call the shots? Who was this person?  
The teen sighed. He wouldn’t get any answers now, and by the looks of things, it would soon be unimportant.  
He had no defence, no way out of the court case looming before him and if the Auror in front of him got his way, he’d probably be eaten by his cell before he even got to Courtroom Ten.  
“Potter, I’m uncomfortable with you being so close to the entrance.”  
Harry scowled. “Well, I’m uncomfortable with being in this cell on my own. What if it eats me?”  
“Potter!” The man looked thoroughly fed up. “Nothing will eat you. That cell is empty.”  
Harry looked into the cell then turned back to his guards with a raised eyebrow. “You sure about that?”  
“Yes, Potter. Shacklebolt, help me with the kid, please.”  
Kingsley was clearly out of his depth. Harry had always been polite and subservient in his presence before and the change had clearly taken him off guard.  
“It might be easier if we just let him be. He _is_ in the cell, after all.”  
The pale Auror looked obstinate. “I don’t want to give him special treatment. He’s just another kid, regardless of what he did when he was a baby.”  
Harry interjected. “You treat all kids like this? I find that hard to believe.”  
The unnamed wizard’s attention went back to him.  
Kingsley sighed, relieved to be able to fade back into the background.  
“What do you mean, Potter?”  
“I mean the way you’re treating me. You’ve just thrown me into a cell. A dark cell that I’m understandably not too keen to go deep into. I don’t like the dark and I’d prefer to be near to a light. Ergo, I’m staying near you. For a normal child, or even a teenager, you’d probably give them a light. You’d probably not have stuck them in a cell in the first place. But with me, compassion’s evidently unnecessary.”  
The wizard looked taken aback.   
“Alright, Potter. I don’t believe that you’re actually scared of the dark but, you’re welcome to stay near the cell’s entrance. Happy?”  
“Ecstatic. Thank you for allowing me this concession.”  
The teen knew that the sarcasm was probably unnecessary and that he should apologize. After all, the Auror had allowed him to do what he wanted.

 _I’ll apologize if I don’t get stuck in Azkaban,_ he bargained with himself.

He checked his watch.   
10:26 A.M.  
The black-haired teen thought back to the letters he’d received from the Ministry. There hadn’t been a time, he was sure of it. He could just sit in darkness for an unknown amount of time but he’d prefer to know when he would be summoned and besides, another conversation would help the time pass faster.  
It was better than nothing – and besides, the man had treated Harry better than the teen had expected. Granted, he’d not been the most pleasant of people, but Harry would take what he could get…  
“Um. Hey, what time’s the court case?”  
The teen was ignored.  
He sighed and tried again. Maybe if he was louder…  
“Hello? Excuse me?” His voice echoed in the deserted prison.  
“Yes, Potter?”  
Kingsley. It seemed that the stranger had decided to ignore him.  
“Do you know when I’ll be able to get out of here?”  
“The hearing starts at 11:30, Potter. You would have been informed that in the notification letter.”  
Harry sighed. _Another hour, then. How boring. One last try to get to Dumbledore before I give up._  
“What about my representative? Don’t I get to speak to them?”  
“Potter, your representative knows where you are.”  
 _No chance of talking to Dumbledore. Hopefully he won’t have decided that it’s best for me to rot in Azkaban until Voldemort somehow appears in front of me to kill._

Azkaban pushed his thoughts back to Sirius. He scowled, realizing that he now had nothing to take his mind off his godfather besides the equally depressing thought of his possible incarceration.

_I hate my life._

** Gwirioneddau Cudd **

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts by Kingsley. The man didn’t speak, simply nudged him towards the door. Harry got the message easily enough. It was time.  
He stood with some difficulty due to his bound hands. Neither Auror helped him but he was able to get to his feet with some work.  
The unknown wizard unlocked the cell and pulled it open. Both he and Kingsley had their wands pointed at him and Harry, keeping this in mind, moved slowly out of the cell and down the corridor.  
When they got to the top of the flight of stairs, the stranger sheathed his wand and grabbed hold of Harry.  
This puzzled the teen at first before he realized – the passage was narrow. The stranger had grabbed hold of him because he was worried about spells ricocheting.  
They bypassed Courtroom Ten and walked down two more corridors, ending in a passageway parallel to the one outside the forbidding Courtroom. Harry, recalling memories from his fourth year trip into Dumbledore’s Pensieve realized that he was being escorted in through the prisoner’s entrance.  
The room was full but the teen did his best to ignore all the people staring at him. He schooled his expression into impassiveness and kept his gaze trained on the floor.  
The two Aurors led him to the accused’s chair and sat him in it.  
Unlike the first time he’d been in the room, this time the chains sprang to life and secured themselves around him.  
Harry waited until everyone in the room had had their fill of gawking at him and had given their attention back to the Minister before looking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment on this as it is ongoing and I appreciate questions. They often remind me that I need to start sticking hints into the text. Also, your ideas about what will happen are incredibly useful as they can spark off my creativity. That's it from me, hope you enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Let me know what you think.


End file.
